


Scratching the Beast's Back

by Grave



Series: The Pairing no one asked for: Eric/Four [1]
Category: Divergent (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Movie based, PWP, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 21:49:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2084361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grave/pseuds/Grave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric asks for a special thank you present for his help in the Erudite revolt. He gets it.</p><p>[Alternate Storyline to the canon of the movie in which the Dauntless get injected with the serum, but the time span between that and Four and Tris being found out as Divergents is a little longer, so oth of them have to act a little longer (a few days) like they are under the influence just like the other Dauntless people.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scratching the Beast's Back

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo...this has been written for a very good friend of mine who watched Divergent with me. As always, when we watch movies together it doesn't take too long to get too invested in a) The Hot Guys b) Stupidly Shipping The Hot Guys without Sense, c) The Hot Ultra Douchebag (aka. Eric) - and she asked me to write her porn. Who am I to deny that request.
> 
> I haven't read the book, this in un-beta'd and technically English isn't my first language but I dare to say I speak and write it very fluently.
> 
> I apologize really for this dark grey area between Non-Con and Dub-Con. Normally I don't write my porn like that :')

His fears have taken multiple shapes and forms. There are sometimes days when he believes he is made out of nothing but fear.

What makes you brave, in a way, is _knowing_ what you fear the most. Then you can face it. Then you can fight it. But this is different. This is different from staring down from the roofs, from tiptoeing on a wire, underneath you nothing but an endless drop. It’s not like dark rooms and walls moving in closer. He knows that this fear is instinctual. Ingrained in the DNA. Ready to be overcome by logic.

 

 

This is more like staring in the direction of where the barrel is pointed, without being able to blink, without being able to look away.

 

»Hmm, I asked them for this. Wouldn’t have thought they really delivered.«

 

His heart hammers in his chest. He is afraid. There is no shame in admitting that. But there are ways to cope with, ways to deal with this - breathe. Count to ten in your head. Focus straight ahead. He is not so much afraid of the man before him. But he knows what possibilities lie in Eric’s head, the calculation and intelligence paired with the waywardness of a ticking time bomb. This could go so many ways. He needed to be prepared for anything.

 

Eric circles him. Smile on his lips. There is satisfaction coming from him in waves. The cat with its prey. Eric loves to see himself as the predator.

He looks at him from every angle, as if he was seeing Four for the very first time, as if they hadn’t been too close to one another for the last eight years, saw each other at their best and their worst. The history of them sits in his throat.

 

Breathe in and breathe out.

 

Eric had him already come here out of his uniform, instead in one of his usual shirt and jeans combo. He feels strangely naked like that. It takes everything not to flinch away when suddenly rough fingers sneak under the thin, worn fabric, pushing his shirt up and laying his back free.

 

»That sentimental shit. Can still remember when you told me why you’ve got something like that tattooed. ›I wanted to have something with meaning.‹ you’ve said, ›You wouldn’t understand that.‹ - and you were right.« Slowly, nearly tenderly Eric follows the line of his spine, circling the symbols of the factions until he reaches the symbol of Dauntless. Four knows without doubt that it is the black flame. Like you would soothe a sobbing child, Eric strokes around that symbol but it hardly makes the tension between his shoulder blades disappear. Still it is nice in a way, harmless. And all the scarier for the out of character nature. It’s nearly a relief when a thumbnail bores into his back, cutting after the flames, very close to scratching blood. Eric is only finished when he draws the last lick of the symbol, then he takes his hand away and Four’s shirt falls into place. Hiding the tattoo again and the new red outlines.

 

He cannot see where Eric is going now, can only hear his boots on the stone floor. He cannot turn around, because the charade he is playing now won’t allow it. He hates having Eric in his back, it’s a risk he would normally never take. He hears the beeping sound of bottoms that are pushed, the machine holding the power over the ›simulation‹. An order would follow now and Four braces himself for it, whatever might come next.

 

»Turn around and come here, Four.«  

 

He closes his eyes for a second, before he does what was asked of him and walks closer to Eric, where he is sitting, leaning against the table next to the machine. With a good arms length distance, just out of reach from Eric, he stops, waiting for further instructions.

 

»Nah, c’mon. Closer.«

Four grinds his teeth, and even so he is filled with reluctance he takes one step closer. Now definitely in Eric’s reach, but he already knows that the other won’t be satisfied by this either. Just this time he doesn’t bother anymore with some polite order, but takes it in his own hands, pulling Four forward by his shirt. Their knees bump into each other awkwardly and Four needs to reach for the edge of the table to find his balance again.

 

»Ah, see, much better now.« Up this close Four can feel Eric’s breath ghosting over his face and the cold blue of his eyes. He would have imagined this going differently. Eric - who’s always impatient and quick to take what he wants - is now toying with him.

 

It’s clear that Eric still doesn’t trust him. And how right he is with that. Many people might overlook Eric’s true qualities, because they are well hidden behind his cruelty, his cool temper, but Four knows that he is born an Erudite and those sixteen years you don’t simply erase like that. How much easier would it have been to deal with a sadist. He needed to be a damn good actor to pull wool over Eric’s eyes.

 

»So… what are we going to do now?«

 _Break your neck. That is what we could be doing now_ , he thinks, with a certain bitterness. But no, he cannot. Nor would Eric make it this easy.

»Ah, yes, I know.«

 

Eric’s hands strays to the panel of the simulator again. Holding the bottom that would open up the simulation to suggestion. »I want you…to kiss me like you would do that precious bitch of yours. Like you would kiss _Tris_.«

 

Four freezes. There was a time frame of a few seconds, until the suggestion would trickle in, a fraction of seconds where he could decide if _this_ was already the breaking point. This is a test and he knows it. The sly smile on Eric’s face says enough.

 

He can’t do it. He won’t do it. ›No.‹ is loud and clear in his head. NO, it screams. He learned all the many layers of this word, learned to own it. Saying no is a simple act of bravery on its own. But…

 

Tris is the reason he is doing this, she and her safety, acting like the simulation is working on him as well, willing to play Eric’s little games. His chances were too small, he was alone in this building, surrounded by brainwashed Dauntless people and Erudite. His chances were close to zero to turn this into anything but a suicide mission. What use will he be dead.

 

The moment of hesitation is gone and passed and before Eric can turn to frown, Four breathes in, letting his shoulders sink. He cups the other’s face in his hands - broader, with the faintest feeling of stubble under his hands, so different from Tris - and draws him into a kiss. Everything is different, there is no sweetness and the shape of Eric’s mouth is all wrong. He doesn’t know how exactly he kisses Tris, but he just tries to think of her, how delicate she feels in his hands - like a tiny bird - , how her body is sweet and soft against him, how she opens her mouth to him, and clings to him. And he tries to bring this into the moment right now. While kissing her feels like it’s never enough - this on the other hand is too much to take.

To his surprise Eric lets him take the lead, is almost passive, almost willing, in the way he lets Four just do this now.

 

It’s all wrong. It’s completely wrong.

 

It drags longer than he would have thought. The moment he tries to pull away again there is a strong hand in his neck, holding him in place. This is how Eric makes the rules, he decides when it begins and when it ends and at the moment apparently he was enjoying the slow, low burning kiss well enough.

When its finally over, Four feels a little breathless, a little bit hotter.

 

»Hmm…«, Eric hums, licking his lips as if Four’s mouth left some taste behind. »No wonder all the little girls go all crazy over you.«

The bastard wants to rile him up. There are a hundred sarcastic remarks he could make about that, but he bites them back.

 

»But that won’t do. Let’s try this again…but this time - kiss me like you would kiss…well…me.«

 

The only kiss Eric would be getting from him was one with his fist and nothing else, but he could hardly say or do that. The thought would be too abstract to process. How would he kiss Eric?

 

Like they do anything else.

 

Their teeth clash so hard that he can feel it pulse through his skull. It’s less kiss and more of an attack with his hands now fisted into the black fabric of Eric’s shirt, the stitches aching as he nearly tears it at the shoulders. He does it the only way he knows how to deal with Eric and that was far less with words and more with his body. To be honest, no matter how often he scored better in every test, no matter how frustrated Eric got about that until it turned into resentment and hatred, intellectually the other always managed to triumph over him. And it got under his skin. The best thing had always been to shut Eric up with violence and this was, too his own surprise, not so much different than their usual routine. It was hard and unfair, dirty - the best way to fight someone like Eric was to attack until he budged and it filled him with a deep satisfaction when Eric needed to sit back on the table and make room between his legs for Four to get some of the pressure off. They cling to each other violently, as if they were daring each other to chicken out right now.

 

Breathless they cut away from each other at some point, both of their chests heaving. It feels like a the walls in the room have moved closer to put pressure on them. The space between them is claustrophobic. To his horror he knows that he is turned on. He recognizes the tingling in his limps all too well. There is something about this that makes his head start to spin.

 

(Managing to dance over the far drop underneath the metal wires without falling.)

 

»Huh, who would have thought you’d had it in you like that. I like that way fucking more.«

Of course Eric is having a hell of a lot of fun with this. Playing with him like that, having Four at his full disposal. This is nothing, he tries to tell himself, you endured worse. This is a small price to pay. Tris is worth more than that.

 

 

 

When Eric reaches over again to the panel on his left, everything freezes in him. »Now, listen-« He is listening, and now he is afraid. Eric pulls him in, so close that their chests touch, that he can hear the other’s voice too intimately close to his ear, mocking, always mocking. It’s impossible not to listen like that. As always Eric smells like metal, gunpowder and fire - a smell Four distinctly associates with home. Not in the way Tris smells like home - because that was _safety_ \- more like the real Dauntless HQ.  »I want you to want me. I want you to crave me, Four. I want you to gag for my cock and beg me to fuck you. I want you to do everything to please me.« He doesn’t know why exactly he shudders as Eric’s breath is hot against his ear and cheek. He is glad that his face is out of sight for now, because he needs to close his eyes, bite his bottom lip.

 

He doesn’t need to repeat possible escape routes in his head. There is a difference between bravery and stupidity. Would it be brave to run and try his luck? See how far he gets until someone starts shooting? Would it be brave to let Tris wait for nothing, to leave her alone and hopeless? Would it be brave or would it be stupid?

And what about now? Would it be brave to do what Eric demands of him, follow the orders, keep the charade up? Would that be brave or would it only lead to him being disgusted with himself and humiliated?

 

Maybe it was not a question about bravery, not everything was - maybe it was rather about what was worth more to him: his pride or his life and the safety of the people he cared for. Involuntarily Four groans. To his luck Eric doesn’t recognize it as the vocalization of his inner turmoil, but rather that the simulation is working, because he is chuckling. It doesn’t sound happy but merely self-satisfied. That has always been how far Eric’s spectrum of emotion went. From anger to self satisfaction.

 

What to do now? Not like he was a brilliant actor or anything. Simple commands he could follow but this was more complex. How to crave someone he mostly loathes, how to crave someone if he wasn’t even sure if he had ever craved something in his life before that could be compared to this. There were things he craved when he looked down at Tris in his bed, wearing one of his shirts, soft and warm in the early morning light. He tried to bottle up that feeling and mix it with the heat he feels whenever Eric and him used to train together, fight against each other - anger and lust can be close together and he knows that every single one of those clashes had left him behind high on adrenaline and with a hunger for something he never bothered to identify closer.

 

Four pushes away a little again, until he can see Eric’s face. He is afraid. There is no shame to admit it. (When you know your fears you can fight them.) He is afraid of the moment Eric will realize that this is all fake and it would have been all for nothing.

The other’s hands are gliding under his shirt, stroking over his stomach. His muscles clench, his whole body feels like it went into freeze mode.

 

»Hmm…even now too stubborn?« , Eric teases and Four shakes his head, drops his breathing a little bit. Just get it over with, he thinks, at one point this will be over. Everything is over at some point. So he leans into Eric’s touch and drags him into another kiss. Desperation is an easy emotion to fake. There is desperation in him and he just needs to channel it differently, needs to put it in Eric’s mouth and in the tangle of their tongues. He must be doing something right, because Eric’s fingers flex and stretch against his stomach and to his surprise it’s his own moan being trapped between their lips.

The more he kisses Eric, the more he gets into it, the more he can draw all the parallels to their ring fights. But this time he is allowed to yield to give in as Eric shoves. To his own chagrin Four needs to admit that Eric knows what he is doing. Must be all those little girls and boys freshly made Dauntless that had a kink for tattooed assholes. Though Four would have thought that Eric would just bend them over the nearest surface, fuck them against the next wall and not practice how to best fit their mouthes against his.

The moment Eric is finished with him, Four doesn’t think that the way he arches is body against the other was much play again and this, more than anything, terrifies him to the bones.

 

Again Eric smirks. Four probably won’t get that off his face anytime soon. He doesn’t want to look at him, really doesn’t - so he puts his mouth to the sharp black lines of Eric’s tattoos, sucks and licks and bites at the skin and keeps himself entertained with the fantasy of biting so hard he will draw blood. All the time he prays this is good enough, will satisfy the other. Eric outright laughs when Four starts to undo the bottoms of his sleeveless black shirt, revealing a body sculpted to the last inch for strength. More elaborate tattoo patterns lick over Eric’s skin, abstract designs between tribal and cyber patterns. Purely decorative. He’s glad and frustrated at the same time, that he needs to admit that it was a good thing that Eric was at least a handsome psychopath and this was making things a lot easier to the point where Four _wanted_ to touch and explore.

 

 

He sinks to his knees and opens Eric’s belt, opening his trousers slowly. All the time he tries to avoid looking up, trying to make it look more eager for the task, breathing a little bit heavier, open mouthed - and not like he just tries to avoid Eric’s smug face.

It’s not like he hasn’t done this before. Dauntless is a pit and there are many ways to get rid of the tension and the energy. Four was never much of a saint really. There is still enough shame in him to feel his muscles tense, to know that in some way he likes it. Something Eric may never, ever know.

 

Eric looks now pleased beyond  reason, blue eyes glinting in the fluorescent light of the room. Tall and powerful from this perspective. Maybe this will be the fastest end to this. Every guy loves to get his cock sucked. Eric will be no different. Four opens his belt and trousers and to his surprise sees that he is faced with another layer of black fabric. He would have figured Eric would be one of those guys to go commando. Apparently he was wrong with that assumption.

 

This was no different to all the times before. Go through the motions. A dick was a dick. Four leans forward, mouthing over the fabric of Eric’s briefs, over the shape of his half hard cock, feeling it harden under his tongue. He toys a little with Eric like that, until, when he chances a glance upwards can see a very familiar irritated frown between his brows. It’s a clear warning that he shouldn’t be playing too long. _Gag for my cock_ or something like that were Eric’s words. A hand comes down to fist in his hair, urge him forward and Four obliges, freeing Eric’s cock from it’s tight prison. Sadly Four already knew that all petty thoughts he might have had with sixteen about Eric having a small dick were not true at all. He hopes he doesn’t stare and hesitate too long, before he leans forward, wraps his hand around the base and his mouth around the tip and gets to work.

 

 

 

Four fears that he might be balding thanks to Eric’s tight grip in his hair by the point he will be done, that or he will simply choke. Might be a mercy at the moment. His hands clench in the fabric of Eric’s trousers and he can feel saliva dripping down his chin.

And he is hard. He is painfully hard in his own damn trousers. Hard from sucking Eric’s cock, from Eric’s very potent smell, from the soft, low noises he makes whenever Four hollows his cheeks and sucks. He tries to shift his weight, but it actually only makes things worse. He moans around the other’s cock and Eric nearly echoes him. But before his right hand can even reach down - get some of the pressure off or just push his palm down into his crotch to calm down, Eric proves even now to have fast reflexes. His wrist gets caught and squeezed so tightly that he needs to push away for air.

 

»Ah, no, you don’t. I am the one deciding when and how you are going to have some fun.«

 

Of course. Who would have suspected anything else. »Ah, fuck…« Eric’s expression changes in a split second between stern command and something that looks strangely vulnerable. »Knew you’d look fucking fantastic like that, Four.«

Four has no single clue how he must be looking at the moment, but from the way his jaw aches and his cheeks feel hot, it must be sight to behold. Reverently Eric touches his cheek, stroking with his thumb over his swollen bottom lip, dipping into his mouth. It’s almost reflex that he starts to suck on the thumb.

It’s getting to his head. Slowly but surely he can feel himself being pulled into it. He tries to tell himself that he would need to be dead inside to not be dragged into the easy, pleasurable rhythm of sex - that it was simply that, his body reacting to the chemistry and the hormones. It’s the Dauntless way - to fuck and fight. But this feels like looking in the same direction as the barrel of his gun, still hesitant on the trigger - but looking right right where it points anyway. He doesn’t avert his eyes and they lock with Eric’s. This is provocation. Or seduction. Something in between as he licks on his thumb, envelopes it in his mouth past the point of gagging. This is the small power he can still hold above the other. It comes to him with sudden clarity.

 

He might be the one trapped between Erudites and Dauntless traitors and Eric might be the one in charge of this situation, forcing his way on Four - but after all Eric is the one who showed him this weakness, wanting him in a private session, wanting Four to want him. And that’s power, too. This doesn’t make it better necessarily, but this allows him to take this little step beyond the limits of his pride to let go of Eric’s hands, take the belt loops and pull him closer, repeating the whole process with Eric’s cock, taking him into his mouth until he can feel him hit the back of his throat.

 

Four nearly moans in unisono with Eric, who staggers a little back, gripping the edge of the table behind him.

 

 

In the last moment, when he knows Eric will be coming, he brazes himself for the full bitter taste of the other in his mouth - to swallow, to maybe be done with it. For what comes next he would in any other situation have laughed because it’s the perfect scene out of every porn. Shortly before Eric comes, he pushes Four’s head away, holding him at the top with his hair in place and with just a few strokes of his own hand he comes all over Four’s face. Four shudders violently, closing his eyes and digging his hands into the rough fabric of Eric’s pants, where he was holding onto them. Rage mixes with shame and he needs to lower his gaze, fix on some point on the ground to swallow it up and not act upon first instinct and punch Eric in the face after all.

 

Blood is rushes through his ears and his heart beats frantically in his chest as he feels Eric’s cum drip over his cheek. He knows what would be coming next without being a genius. Eric smears the white fluid like war stripes over his face, forcing Four to open his mouth and taste it bitterly.

 

 

 

»Get up and strip, Four.«

 

His legs are weak and ache a little when he slowly picks himself up off the ground. He tries to ignore the rests of Eric’s fucking cum on his face as best as he can - you should get used to all kinds of nasty fluids in Dauntless. This should be after blood and guts his least problem really. To buy himself a little more time, he leans against the other, hiding his face on his shoulder (cleaning his face a little by smearing it off against Eric’s top, it’s the little victories that count really). His own erection should be very noticeable as he presses it against the other’s thighs . The pressure good, glorious, after a time he could probably come like this, rubbing himself off against Eric’s strong thigh and he let’s his hips circle a little, moaning against the other’s throat. This distracts Eric gladly enough.

 

Eric hums softly, playfully. The order is for now apparently forgotten and also the fact that Four didn’t follow it immediately. Big hands move to open his jeans. He hates himself a little for not wearing any underwear out of habit, it makes it too easy for the other to simply glide in the back of his jeans, cupping his ass with two large hands, kneading the flesh and encouraging the rhythm with which Four moves his hips. Fingers trail between his cheeks, brushing ever so slightly over his opening and with that he simply blows the tension away from Four again. 

 

_I want you to gag for my cock and beg me to fuck you._

 

Of course Eric wouldn’t be pleased by just a blow job, he had been promising more and Four shakes a little  with anticipation.

With quick efficiency Eric changes their positions, turns them around - Four now the one backed against the table and Eric between his legs, still putting pressure against his by now aching groin.

 

»I haven’t heard you beg yet, Four. And I told you to strip. Still not very good with orders, hm?«

 

Begging was not so easy to accomplish, following orders was the easier part. With weak hands he grabs for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion. Thanks to Eric his trousers are already open so he just needs to push them down until they slide on their own accord free. They catch around his boots and ankles but he guesses that this will satisfy Eric already enough. They showered hundreds of times together, modesty not really something that exists in Dauntless but the circumstances were quite different.

Hungry blue eyes roam over his body, take in every inch. Eric smirks when he sees Four’s cock, curved upwards and hard. Despite himself Four feels a flush creeping on his face, but this time, when he averts his gaze, Eric forces him to eye contact again.

 

»So…what do you want now?«

 

 _I want you to fuck me._ The thought is very clear and very straight forward in his head. Things like this can be often very simple. Maybe they would have saved themselves a lot of fights if they just managed to put aside their differences like this. Four couldn’t help it. Just as crucial as admitting your fears was admitting what you wanted and he cannot deny that he liked it - being spread open, someone else taking charge. There were so many things he needed to have control over in his every day life, so many things to hide and keep in place, denying his true nature as a Divergent, following the rules, being a good leader to the new cadets - there was something incredibly satisfying in letting go of that control.

 

»I want you to fuck me.«, he says it out loud the moment the thought materializes in his head. There is no hesitation this time around, none at all. This seems to surprise Eric for the very first time. With his eyebrows raised he looks at Four, considering him for a few seconds. The silence stretches so long that Four becomes uncomfortably aware again of everything that makes this fucked up.

 

»Ok.« Eric can be really simple sometimes. »But you will prepare yourself for me.« With a hard shove Eric puts him face first on the table.

 

 

 

The angle is awkward at best but with a little bending and twisting it is working out. He doesn’t even care to think too hard about the fact that Eric was considerate enough to come prepared with lube. He tries to regulate his breathing, use a generous amount of lube and pushes without much ceremony two fingers into himself.  He drags in a shuddering breath, pressing his forehead against the wooden clean surface of the table. He asks himself if Miss Matthews is aware of what she had allowed Eric exactly. It was an extremely weird thought to think about the proper and prim woman sitting in her office, planing her crazy take over and being aware that he allows one of the Dauntless traitors to have his way with a hostage. But there were better moments of all the possible connections Jeanine Matthews might have to Eric that earned him this leading position in her little revolution.

 

He feels too hot in his own skin. His work on himself is sloppy at best. His cock is aching between his legs, not allowed to be touched. Eric is an invisible presence behind him. Four knows the other is watching but he makes no sound. For some reason this is more exciting than it actually is scary. His whole body hurts by now, the nerves, the pressure, the pent up, slow built lust.

 

Four tries to think of Tris. How sweet she is in his arms. With her it is never like this, her touches are soft and kind. He has all the control in those situations, he is completely focused on her. Her soft and unblemished skin, the curve of her breasts. He gets lost with his mouth over her collarbone and his fingers buried in her, working on her, until she moves her hips with breathy moans, clings to his shoulders with closed eyes. She’s beautiful and mesmerizing and it’s a wonder that he would ever deserve something as beautiful as her.

 

This feels more like everything he deserves.

 

Helplessly he groans, pushing his fingers deeper.

 

Out of the blue, Eric’s hands are there again, standing so close that he can feel the other’s thighs brush against his ass and knows that Eric stripped out of his clothes as well.

 

»I have been wanting to do this for a very long time.« Eric’s tone is weirdly conversational, as if they were just having a chat after training. His hands are a little aimless over Four’s skin but everywhere he touches he leaves his skin warm and craving.

Four’s rhythm shakes a little.

 

»You always looked like you were in need of a really good fuck.«

 

Four whimpers as Eric changes to his fingernails, leaving half moon shapes and scratch marks over his skin as he wanders down again from his neck, over the already sore Dauntless logo to the dip of his ass.

 

»And I knew you’d love it. Knew you thought about it.«

 

Suddenly Eric pushes another finger in alongside Four’s two. The moment Four wants to pull away, Eric gives him a slap with his free hand, signaling a clear ›No. You won’t.‹ At first it is a little weird. He feels too full with three fingers and Eric starts to dictate a completely new rhythm.

 

»Apparently I was right.«

 

It’s swimming into an uncertain territory between pain and pleasure the moment Eric adds another finger. Four feels now entirely more than he can take. »I want to hear you, Four, c’mon.«

 

This is probably the moment something snaps in him. He starts to shove back on the four fingers stretching him impossibly open. Sweat is dripping down his face, burning in his eyes and making his hair stick to his forehead. Tris would be never able to reach him in this deep dark place inside his head. He wouldn’t ever let her see this shameful place. But with Eric he has no qualms, doesn’t even feel conscious of how vulnerable he is, because for that he won and conquered the other way too often.

They only understand each other in very rare moments, but when they do, there is something in his nature that no one but Eric will get.

 

He doesn’t know what exactly he is babbling, the other’s name drops probably a few times. It doesn’t take long until the fingers are not enough anymore and gladly Eric’s patient with drawing this out any longer comes to its end as well.

 

 

 

Eric pushes into him with one brutal shove that brings the whole table to rattle, burying himself so deep into Four that he can feel it in his teeth. There is a moment of pain, but it blows up like a ballon popping as soon as Eric starts to move his hips.

 

Eric is right. Eric is right in a way that makes his stomach drop. He wanted this, like you want many things. Like you want the things that scare you the most. Like there is a fleeting little moment when you stare down from incredibly heights and wish to just jump, have that exhilarating drop for a few moments. But there are consequences to such primal driven needs. There is the ground waiting for you, there is no endless drop. And it would have been just that with Eric. It would have given him a few moments of satisfaction, but he’d hit the ground and have to live with the consequences and nothing, nothing in this world would ever be worth it.

He doesn’t know if the consequences are taken out of his hands now that he as a million excuses, if there is something making this good again. He thinks of Tris waiting in the quarters for him to come back, how she would search for a private moment to ask him what they wanted from him, what had happened. Would he lie or would he tell the truth? Would the next time he kissed her feel as weird and wrong as it did the moment he kissed Eric?

 

Eric feels huge within him, fills him completely. His rhythm is merciless and wild, he fucks like he fights and this is without any hold back and with a lot of calculation. It’s like he already knows Four’s body, knows after only two pushes and pulls where to aim and like this it doesn’t take long until Four arches back and a flow of moans and cries comes from him, coming from deep in his guts.

 

He is already gone the moment Eric’s hand wraps around his cock, in a strong vice grip that keeps him from coming just then  and makes him endure a little longer until Eric is satisfied with him.

 

He wants to be many things, and knows he can be many things - maybe this is just one more aspect of that. He can be the man who traces gentle patterns into the pale curves of Tris’ body and he can be the man who breaks in Eric’s arms. Can this really be impossible?

 

His heart hammers in his chest and his head is blissfully silent. Eric grabs for his throat, pulling him upwards in a half standing position, his back pressed against the other’s strong, solid chest. Teeth bore into his neck, the beast holding down it’s prey. And he reaches behind himself, holding onto Eric’s head and pushing him deeper down until the pain becomes so sweet and he knows there is blood trickling down his shoulder. It will leave a mark he won’t be able to hide. It will make it impossible to lie.

 

There is a point of serenity, past the fear.

 

»I know what you are. What a splendid show you put on for me.«

 

Four’s eyes fly open, wide with shock, mouth open. Eric slows down his rhythm, every thrust deeper now and his hand around his cock gets kinder, matching every snap of his hips. A tremor starts from Four’s fingertips and wanders further up. He tries to turn his head and look at Eric, but he can only make out his face from the corner of his eyes.

 

He wants to desperately say something, but his orgasm washes over him so violently in this moment with Eric licking blood from his bite marks and comes as well, buried deep inside his body. His head is spinning and his body feels too weak. There is nothing between him and the table, his arms barely having enough strength to cushion the fall forward,  Eric deeming it apparently not necessary to help him out and support him any longer.

 

He needs to catch his breath first before he can start to think about what exactly Eric had been saying just now. He shivers, because he is cold all of the sudden and he can feel Eric’s cum dripping down his thighs.

 

»What…?«, he gets out, voice breaking around the vowels. He turns on the table, pushing himself up on his elbows just to see how Eric is getting dressed again and pushing the hair back that slipped out of it’s usual slicked back style.

 

»You heard me right. Tobias Eaton. Divergent.«

 

His heart starts to pick up its speed in his chest. He just waits that some brain washed Dauntless soldiers will come barging in any second, arresting him, but nothing like that happens. Not even Eric appears to want to add anything to that simple observation. »…How?«

 

»You always underestimated me, Four.« Eric points at the screen of the simulation machine where a brain scan is visible. He doesn’t know what exactly this is supposed to tell him and it probably shows on his face, so Eric rolls his eyes.

 

»Get up and get dressed.«

For a moment he feels complied to do so, but then he remembers that it would be only idiotic to try and keep this stupid charade up.

 

He notices how some parts of the picture start to change color.

 

»Your brain shows no signs of being manipulated by the serum. That might not show when you are not moving as a mass, but when it’s only hooked to you it becomes strikingly obvious that you don’t react at all.«

 

Horror settles slowly in as he starts to comprehend the extent to what this means. Gladly years of training let him stay calm enough to slowly reach down for his trousers to pull them up again and asses the situation. »What are you going to do now?« He waits patiently while Eric types some things into the machine. Some kind of code Four cannot even start to comprehend.

 

After a while, he gets aggravated with Eric’s silence, surging forward to grab for Eric’s collar, forcing his attention on him. »Eric!«

 

Eric, looking unimpressed as ever, merely raises an eyebrow. »Nothing. This is my one kindness to a former comrade. I’ll wait until you fuck up. And you will fuck up. Then I am going to shoot you.«

 

 


End file.
